Riolozhikaik
by SapSorrow
Summary: Riolozhikaik - contradicting or disregarding the principles of logic; without logic; senseless. The limits of Vulcan logic are so much tougher when half of your brain is a pesky illogical human. Spock - centric babblings by me.
1. Sha-es

**Riolozhikaik**

**1\. Sha – es**

Logic.

It seems a fragile thing to build a society upon, an intricate system as easy to break as a spider's web. He struggles all the more for the human half of his brain. It appear that humans live in spite of logic and never in harmony with it. He does not understand the half of his brain that understands this and the half that does not understand looks askance at the other.

It is like having a stranger in his own head.

Sometimes it is like having two.

They say we are all of us strangers to ourselves and to everybody around us. Well how could anybody hope to know us when half of us never know ourselves? He watches humans in their daily struggle for identity and likes to think himself beyond it.

He is not.

He is a million miles from not beyond it.

Identity. Even when you put together all there is to know about the workings of the human brain identity is not logical. Not until it is sculpted out of years of fine work, whittling away at the core off yourself until it can be seen without any kind of tint or haze. It is not certain this sculpture can ever completely come together.

Connection – to people who do not start out as family is not logical. Connection to the world. Yes. Vulcans understand this better than any race for studying their connections with every attempt at dispassion, with all the learning and the force of mental discipline behind that understanding. Connections forged can only be crafted, fine as jewellery if they are to make any real sense.

Beauty. Only when there is a cause, an explainable need for it can beauty be brought to bear at the throne of reason, and yet beauty with no intention is a necessity of its own. This juxtaposition was laid down by Surak and only by fine and hand shivering balancing can it be brought to function.

Love. Love is where it all falls down. For there is no logic in this, no sense, no reason. It can claw at the heart until identity itself gets lost in the struggle. It can blow over the most carefully wrought construction of logical understanding and universal awareness with one smile that flashes straight from the eyes.

It should be the enemy of logic.

It is not. Not only because there is no war here, no enemies to fight, but because when all the rest falls away, when that fragile structure that you relied on so much, that you spent so long in crafting – when that blows away, that spider web on the wind – love stays. Because love does not need to be crafted, if there is a structure to work upon it can be so, but only if it is there in the beginning. Irrational. Conflicting. Challenging.

Strong.

Logic built on the foundations of love is strong indeed, a web that cannot be simply blown away.

For how else do we survive when the world stops making sense? When everything we took for granted reveals itself as transient as an illusion. When all the most intelligent philosophies of Vulcan mental training come to dust, the human half comes up with this strange and inexplicable salvation, corny, ridiculous, incontrovertible.

Love _can _be a raft in the shipwreck of logic.

_x_

**Title = Illogical**

**Sha – es = Identity**

**In the face of a rather trying time I am retreating to the things that keep me sane; my first and dearest fandom, my otp and Vulcan philosophy. If this is crappy or doesn't make sense, eh, I'm only doing it to try and make sense of things and cheer myself up – literary meditation as it were. This will be a series of short Spock/ Vulcan – centric babblings. I have vague plans. **


	2. Ha-kel

**Ha - kel**

What do you do when everything you relied upon is suddenly gone?

Is there a logical way to react to the shocking sudden absence of foundation.

To crave security is not illogical, it is not even weak. These are the things that are necessary, the things we need to foster not only survival but civilization, creativity, intelligence, progress: Family, strength, comfort, home.

Home.

It is the very basis of security. The foundation of day to day existence, even when you are not there. Would it have been illogical to realise how much he depended upon it? How much the awareness of a place's existence is rooted into the bedrock of being?

You do not notice this for the necessity it is until it is gone. And is there really any logical way to react when a place, nay your whole planet is gone?

Because it was yours. Because, even though you could never in one lifetime explore the whole of just this one planet you knew it better than you know anywhere. Know. Knew. In the sudden startling absence of place tenses become complex. Logic goes to a place beyond reach. The sudden switch to past tense is too much to handle.

You don't know what to do with this because for all its necessity, home and all that it entails is not, at the root of it, logical.

So here you are, rootless, cast out into the stars. You can let it overcome you, wailing in the blackness, in the void. You can fall, reeling freely through space.

Or you can stretch out our self and fly.

_x_

**I moved house today. Didn't like it. Here be this ficlet.**

**Ha-kel = Home**


	3. Skan

**3.**

**Skan**

Family.

They are not always the people you are told they should be. Not always the obvious choices. It can be a daily fight to live up to expectations. It can be a daily burden to carry those expectations and to know that instead of fulfilling them you did something else entirely. To suspect that what you chose was not what they wanted for you and to always have this awareness like a shadow in the mind.

Parents. Ancestors. You _are _close to them but sometimes it is because you feel that you have to be.

And you think that just because you are an adult this should not be the constant question it was while you were growing up. This collision between familial expectation and what you _feel _is owed to yourself should not be the constant conflict it was when ou still had the excuse of being young and undecided.

To _feel _at all should be reprehensible. Denied.

But age is not the surety of certainty that it ought to be. You wonder if it will ever be enough to make you work these conflicts out.

You think nobody will ever feel as conflicted as you do, that if you only haled from one place, one people, it would change. Become simpler.

It never becomes simpler. Instead you learn that duality, indeed multiplicity is the nature of any mind, any psychiatric make – up if you will. And perhaps, instead of seeking one answer over another you learn to live with both of yourselves.

Family.

On Vulcan they try to make it easier to define. They work it into the language –

_Skan – _Those to whom you are related by genetics. These are the ones who set all your conflictions in motion.

_K'war'ma'khon – _Those to whom you feel as close as family. These are the ones who make no choices for you. The ones you did not always expect to find. These are the people who know you for the choices you make, for all your convoluted turns of mind and expression. Who take you on the basis of your own expression of yourself and whose love therefore, is, though you would not have thought it reasonable, in truth the less conditional.

These people who irritate you, who you so often do not understand. Who can turn a smile your way to warm you in a way logic will never explain, whose approbation and interest come as the sweetest surprise you never sought.

They are the people who do not always say _I love you_. Instead they mock and tease and argue and for all your differences still love you when you disagree.

These are the people you take with you into the stars.

_x_

**Eh, I just spent too long in the middle of nowhere with my parents. This is not a happy making thing to happen! Sometimes you realise all over again that real family aren't necessarily the people you're related to. Of course I kinda think Kirk always knew this. :-) One of my oldest lessons from Star Trek. :-)**


	4. T'hy'la

**4.**

**T'hy'la**

You know you can use the word when loving them is not a question. It is not an option or a decision. It is not up for debate any more than it is a choice to breath if you wish to survive.

Does logic fit into such necessity? It is not vital, not necessary, that the heart feel warm and liquid beneath the gold of such a smile – it is not a pre-requisite for continued existence – is it?

That person who need not do anything to be your anchor in this life. The person who both breaks through so many quiet attempts at meditation and yet is the rock you never thought that they could be. When everything else is floating, lost, when you are floating yourself – that person is the rock to which, however far away you drift, you are always tied. Even though it is frightening up there among the clouds and you cannot always see your way, you feel the pull of the rock for you are tied to it and it can see you even when you cannot see your own hand in front of you for the fog of confusion.

You question how this came to be, this person, this everything, this friend, brother, lover, all. You ask yourself when in our acquaintance did this become the way it had to be? The only way it could be. There is no logical reply.

And yet there is no madness in loving them, no insanity. You cannot for a moment imagine it to be a mad human whirlwind of a love. Humans, some of the think, this makes it less. That you can for one moment appear calm about your beloved means that you feel this love less deeply than others.

There is nothing further from the truth.

This is not about appearances. It never has to be. For all you will never pinpoint the moment this connection first became clear to you the only lack of logic would be not to love where this answer is obvious.

This love is logical and for that, not in spite of it, it is deep.

_x_


	5. Rok-tor

**Rok-tor**

Hope.

They value it, these humans and yet in so many ways it is the deepest depth of illogic.

Hope when it is unfounded appears at first as a stupidity, an incomprehensible lack of understanding, contrary to any rational and sensible outlook upon a scenario.

He has seen this, thought it over. Indeed it is worse than foolish; sometimes hope is the greatest bringer of grief. Sometimes it is simply kinetic pain. He has seen it on the faces of the desperate, seen it as a form of denial in an expectation that can never, _could_ never, be realised. He has seen it in an expression that hurts the heart that watches (though it may never admit of any such hurt) that expression swing from a smile to a scowl. He has seen it as a light that it is difficult to watch go out. He has felt the light go out of his own eyes and he has learnt, the best he can, to master this emotion and banish it forever.

It is unnecessary, wasteful of energy, detrimental to all effective prognostication of outcome, so often almost as misplaced an emotion as the still more difficult to understand concept that is faith.

And yet could he say he has never felt the kick of the heart beat against his chest when the flare of that thing has burst up? Can he say he has not nearly smiled to feel the light of it dance in his own eyes. When he finally heard Uhura's words to him that day, as he had fought Khan, heard them through a black clogging cloud of barely penetrable emotion – could he honestly have said he did not feel that thing called hope? Could he have whole heartedly denied that it brought him back to life from a temporary death himself?

Would it have been a melodrama unworthy of him not to deny it?

And could he say, in any degree of honesty that when the hope was fulfilled its culmination was not the warmest flood of feeling he had ever known and that even this, this _feeling _all of it could not be described as sublime?

He fears he will never reach the state of mental calm and clarity to which he strives – for being so close to unable to lie he cannot say any of it.

Hope, it seems, is eternal after all.

-x-

**I have somewhere to live again! Future chapters may finally continue to explore elements of Vulcan positivity! **


	6. Tushah Nash-veh k'dular

**Tushah nash–veh k'dular**

This hurts.

Sometimes the smallest things are the hardest. The transition from _is _to _was. _When you say the one and have to correct yourself, and the voice quivers on your own correction.

Little things like a photo. Something they said. A reminder of that time when.

How do you mourn a life more to be celebrated than mourned? How do you celebrate when your heart is hurting so? You remember, and remember and at some point you remember that you have to look forward as well as back. Eventually the things you remember will make you smile as well as cry. And then make you smile.

Eventually it will always strike as selfish to be sad. You realise your sadness is for the ones left behind. You hurt to think of them hurting. And yes you hurt for yourself, because they are not there anymore and you liked it when they were. It's not selfish. You liked it because they gave something, they inspired you, they made you smile. And now they're gone.

It is a loss. A gap. A hollow. A rushing in the head because there is a hole where they used to be. You remember in the end that they would want you to be happy. And it is always true. For them the truth is of a greater rest than they have ever known.

Words are poor things. You want to share. You stumble and forget all sense and reason and feel deficient. Everything you think of to say sounds trite. You want to offer comfort, to say something that does them justice. But nothing does them justice. You cannot ever find the words. They are poor tools.

In the end what can you say, how can you share the memory, the understanding other than to say these words _I grieve with thee._

That is all. It will have to do.

_x_

**It really is hard to find words. I cry. My heart goes out to the whole fandom today. Tushah nash-veh k'dular.**


	7. Halovau

**Halovau**

The most logical question to ask would always be _why make the journey in the first place? _But if he is painfully honest with himself, and he almost always is – he does not always ask it, certainly not in advance.

He might ask instead – what is the journey? Is it a distance travelled, easy to compute and record. Is it the act of moving, of covering this distance? Is it limited to a ship, a time, a voyage, recorded and never lost. Is it completely and entirely to be categorised and does anything beyond the labelled purpose fall outside of the boundaries of the journey? It is not the distance, illogical though that might be. To think so resonates nothing, proves nothing. It is surely then the things seen, both along the way and when they reach their conclusion. That is why the journey is made.

Not just the things seen no. Though there is a childish logic that never fades away that says _yes, what else does there need to be. _But how the seeing changes the viewer. That is where the importance of travel lies. Not to find yourself, he is sure. If you were setting out with that as the purpose in mind, you would be settling out on a fallacy. Because _you_ – if that is what you seek – is not out there among the stars. If you cannot find that within you cannot find it at all. And he supposes if you need to go that great distance to work that out you are looking in the wrong place.

But he likes the technicality of travel, of distance, of seeing something new. He is endlessly fascinated by a cataloguing both of what has been observed and the reflection of how he reflects upon it. The interior response never stops changing. This needs no distance. He could take as long working out the galaxy hidden in a pair of blue eyes as one made up of more obvious stars. There is no such thing as _small. _He has learnt that in reflection of those eyes.

No travel can take place sat in one spot for the whole of one's life. It is impossible to ever look at the same thing twice, no lie. Perhaps it complicates reflection to travel so far, but he is clever. His mind can keep up. There's a big picture out there that still needs to be explored to be seen in all its detail – and at the same time, the picture will never completely come clear unless just as many hours are spent in the study of that detail.

_Halovau_. It does not require movement at all. He knows he would be just as interested to hear the experiences of a man who had sat in one cave his whole life than in one who had explored the furthest reaches of space. He understands that neither man has seen more or less than the other. For himself he is a creature of two worlds in every way and as such he will continue to attempt both.

_x_

**Endless arguments with the family regarding the necessity of travel have led me to this brief summary! My usual question always ****_what would Spock say? _****:-)**


End file.
